In My Savior's Arms
by CDV10
Summary: AU. Stephanie McMahon is a lawyer who has been kidnapped and is now being watched by the country's most dangerous hitman. Against all logic though, they are drawn to each other...
1. First Impressions

**A/N: I don't own any names I use. **

**New day, new story. A little dark. Hope you like it though, let me know what you think, even if you don't think it's that good. Thanks and enjoy, I hope. :)**

**

* * *

**

_This prayer is for me tonight__  
This far down the line  
And still ain't got it right  
And while confessions are not yet stated  
Our next sin is contemplated…_

**Fuel: Innocent**

**

* * *

**

Stephanie McMahon's eyes fluttered for a few seconds. Her temples were throbbing relentlessly as she gradually regained consciousness. She groaned, her eyes half-opening and her vision blurred. She was laying on the floor somewhere, her charcoal business suit now a wrinkled mess. Her wavy brown hair which she had spent an hour getting done was now wild and untamed. She slowly pushed herself up so she was sitting, her head pounding and feeling like it would crack in two. A pained moan escaped her as she squinted, trying to see where she was. It was dark, so dark she could barely see herself, much less her surroundings. Stephanie blinked a few times, willing her eyes to focus so she could see.

The more oriented she became, the more fear overwhelmed her. She had no idea what had happened to have her wake up here, wherever _here _was. Looking down, Stephanie checked her suit, instinctively searching for her cell phone.

But there was nothing.

Panic flared through her – she never went anywhere without her cell phone. She took a deep breath, her lawyer nature kicking in. There had to be a logical explanation. Stephanie closed her eyes and slowly began to retrace her steps…

She had had her paperwork prepared for the first of many briefings on her latest case, and had put it all in her leather briefcase.

She had checked to make sure she had everything, and then double checked for good measure.

She had gone down the elevator of her building to the parking lot.

She had greeted the security guard who was entering the elevator while she exited it.

It was so early that it was still dark outside.

She had seen her car and made a mental note that she needed it washed on her way back home.

She had searched for her keys.

Then nothing.

Fear paralyzed her when she realized she could not will her memory to work past her searching for her keys. One second she had been wondering where her keys were; the next second, she was waking up on the floor in some dark place. Stephanie swallowed heavily as she slowly got up to her feet. She swayed a little, before shaking her head to rid herself of the lingering haze. Her balance somewhat restored, the frazzled woman began to slowly inch her way forward, her hands in front of her so she wouldn't run into anything.

"Hello?" she called out warily, her voice hoarse. She moved forward a little more. "Hello? Is anyone there? Can anyone hear me?" Stephanie stopped inching forward when her thighs ran into something. She gasped and brought her hands down, her palms pressing against what felt like a table. Her eyes were slowly focusing as they adjusted to the darkness, and she could somewhat make out the table. Stephanie squeezed her eyes shut, holding back unshed tears of fear and frustration, and screamed, "CAN ANYONE HEAR ME?"

"I suggest you shut the hell up, before I shut you up permanently," a soft-spoken but cold voice responded.

Stephanie's eyes widened and she blinked back her tears as she looked around her. "Who are you? _Where _are you?" she asked, trying to make herself sound confident and brave even though her body began to tremble at the man's voice.

The man laughed without any humor in his voice. "I liked you better when you were unconscious. At least then you were quiet."

"Answer me," Stephanie demanded, her voice unwavering.

"Sorry, princess," came the snide reply. The voice was closer to her now, sending chills down Stephanie's back. "But you're not the boss here, and I don't take orders from you."

Stephanie opened her mouth to say something when a harsh sliding sound across a rail rang out. She squinted, her surroundings suddenly illuminated with the light of the moon outside. She glanced around and saw that she was in some kind of hotel room. There was a bed, and the table she had just run into with two chairs at the foot of the bed. There was also a large window, and she could see that the room was on the third or fourth floor. It was a low-end hotel room from what she could tell, a seedy place with a frightening vibe.

Most frightening of all though was the silhouette of a man standing next to the window, holding the drawn curtains back. She couldn't make him out from where she was. He was standing in the darkness, just out of the light of the moon. She could see his outline, and as her eyes wandered down, she could see the outline of what he was holding in his hand.

She opened her mouth to speak, but her mouth was dry and she had no words. Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and she saw two doors. One must have been for the bathroom. The other had locks on it. That one must have been the exit. If she could make it out through that door, she would be in a public place. There would be cameras. She would be able to call the police. She would be safe.

In less than one second, she assessed and decided.

Fight or flight.

Fight or flight?

_Flight._

Stephanie ran to the door with the locks, not looking back, her fear for her life giving her newfound speed. She was at the door, her trembling hands trying to undo the locks as quickly as humanly possible. She heard footsteps behind her and remembered that the monster behind her was armed. Seeing that she couldn't unlock the door and sheer panic overwhelming her, Stephanie tried just opening the door, praying it would somehow by some miracle swing open.

An arm suddenly shot out from behind her, going right past her head until the palm pressed forcefully against the door. Stephanie could feel his breath right behind her ear as he stood dangerously close to her from behind.

"You're not going anywhere," he told her, his voice void of emotion.

"I'll scream," she warned. The man smirked from behind her, and suddenly removed his hand from the door and used that hand to harshly grab a fistful of her hair.

"I got this room sound-proofed, so go ahead," he challenged as Stephanie screamed from the pain.

_Fight._

The man's eyes widened when Stephanie hit him in the nose with her elbow. He snorted, backing up when he felt warm blood trickle down from his nose to his lips. He licked his lips, feeling his nose a little and saw her once again trying the locks. She looked over her shoulder at her abductor, still not able to see his face. With the light from the moon shining in from behind him though, she could see his disheveled blond hair.

She looked back to the locks and with steadier hands managed to unlock one. Stephanie noticed with dismay though that the others needed keys. She began to pound on the door, only then realizing that there was padding in place for sound-proofing. She didn't care though and just pounded harder, some of her hair now sticking to her face from her sweat.

Suddenly, his arms came around her head as he pulled her into a sleeper hold. Stephanie gasped and immediately regretted it as she felt his hold tighten, and her oxygen supply being severely cut down. She struggled against him, but he had an iron hold.

He didn't let go, no expression on his face as she tried to reach back for his hair. He felt her try to kick back into his crotch, and he was mildly impressed by that as he avoided her attempt. He felt her start to weaken, and he loosened his hold a little when her arms fell. He let go when he felt her body go completely limp, and easily swept her up into his arms so she wouldn't fall. He turned and walked back over to the bed, before placing her there.

The man's blue eyes studied her critically for a moment, before leaning down and pressing two fingers on the side of her neck to check her heart rate. He then reached up and let his hand hover right over her nose and mouth, feeling her breathing pattern. Satisfied that she would be fine, he remained there a moment longer, just looking at her. She was lying in the full light of the moon, and he hadn't seen her so clearly before. When he had walked in and traded places with Randy, her true abductor, the girl had been lying on the floor in the darkness. He hadn't bothered to move her, figuring she would wake up soon anyways. And not even ten minutes later, she had.

Now he found himself looking at her, an unreadable expression on his face betraying unreadable emotions inside of him.

He shook his head and looked away, walking around the bed and going to the table that Stephanie had run into earlier. He took a seat, facing the window and the light it was emitting. He moved his gun aside that he had left on the table a few minutes earlier as he had walked over to silence the girl, and kicked his feet up on the table instead, crossing them at the ankle. Reaching into his jacket, he pulled out a packet of cigarettes and a lighter.

He felt his cell phone vibrate in his pocket just as he was about to light up, and he sighed deeply. He pulled it out, turned off the vibrating, and set it on the table next to his gun, groaning when he saw that it was his boss.

_That asshole can wait, _he thought to himself, putting the cigarette into his mouth. He lifted the lighter and flicked it on, his hands mildly shaking as he lit his cigarette. He took a hit and the shaking disappeared. He closed his eyes, letting his nerves settle down but knowing that he would catch hell if he didn't pick up. Sighing, he reached down and answered the phone.

"Yeah," he answered, his tone bored.

"Is she still there?"

He rolled his eyes, "Yes, she's still here."

"How is she?"

He took a hit and exhaled a stream of smoke while eyeing the woman on the bed, "Sleeping," he finally answered, his tone empty.

"Good, glad to see you haven't blown her head off yet."

The blond man chuckled humorlessly. "How long do you plan on keeping me on this bullshit babysitting job?"

"Why, Chris? Are you too good for this job?"

The tone was challenging. It was a challenge he knew he couldn't meet. Chris sucked at his teeth and closed his eyes, biting back the scathing words he had coursing through his mind.

"No," he finally answered. His hands began to shake again, and he brought the cigarette back up to his lips to fix that.

"Good," came the satisfied reply. "You remember asshole, you work for me. So I don't want to hear your shit. I need you to watch this girl and not let her go anywhere. Do you understand?"

"This isn't my first fucking barbeque," Chris replied snidely, blowing smoke and wishing it went into the phone and gave the other man lung cancer. "I know how to do my job, Paul."

"Then do it and quit bitching," Paul snapped. A muscle in Chris's jaw flexed, but he remained silent. "Keep the girl alive for now. We'll deal with her later. Don't let her go anywhere."

"Whatever you say… boss," Chris said, forcing himself to be monotone.

"Randy will be by in the morning to check in."

"Fine."

He was met with a dial tone. Chris let the phone fall to the table, before angrily shoving it completely off. He grumbled a little to himself as he put the cigarette back in his mouth, leaning back in his chair and staring into the night.

Usually, Randy was the babysitter. Chris had only done these bullshit jobs when he was a rookie first starting out. But now, he had progressed. Now he only came into the picture when it was time. It was always his finger pulling that trigger as he mercilessly ended the life of whoever was deemed to have a life that needed ending. Sometimes he did it in person. Sometimes he did it sniper style. But it was always him. He was the best.

But Paul didn't trust Randy with this girl. This girl was different and required the best to be there every step of the way to the end. This girl required Chris to drop everything else he had going on and focus completely on her. Chris glanced curiously at the girl, scowling at her sleeping form.

What made her so damn special? Why did he have to drag this out when he knew how the story would end? To show mercy would be to stroll over and put a bullet in between the girl's eyes, and end her existence in her sleep where she would feel no pain at all. Instead, he was at Paul's whim. He ignored the feeling of hatred that seeped up through him at the thought of that man.

He glanced back at her again. She looked like the successful lawyer that Paul had said she was. In fact, she was quite gorgeous. Chris hadn't exactly been expecting that. He looked back out the window, removing the cigarette from his mouth and exhaling deeply.

The sooner Paul gave the order to get rid of the girl, the better…


	2. Promise

**A/N: It's been a while, I know. I've had writer's block for almost all my stuff here. But anyways, hope you guys like and as always, let me know your thoughts. Positive and negative feedback welcome.**

**

* * *

**

_Desperate, I will crawl  
Waiting for so long  
No love__  
There's no love  
Die for anyone  
What have I become?_

**Breaking Benjamin: The Diary of Jane**

**

* * *

**

Chris drew the curtains forward, encasing the hotel room in darkness and blocking out the light of the sun. He raised two fingers to his eyes and massaged them, having stayed up all night from his frazzled nerves. It was highly unlike him to be this anxious while on an assignment, but his nerves were shot from stress anyways. Most of the time he could control it, but with no one around to watch him right now, he was giving into it.

He shot the woman on the bed a glance, but she was still asleep. He sneered at her, for the briefest of moments envious of her. She could rest and escape, while he had to stay on guard for any possible escape. And if she escaped, it would be _his_ blood that was spilled, not hers. He rubbed his eyes again as he collapsed back into his chair. He was by no means a rookie at what he was doing, but he always hated these jobs. They demanded patience and maybe it was his age showing, but he didn't have much patience for it anymore.

He picked up his gun and absent-mindedly twirled it in one hand, his gaze drifting back to her as it had for most of the night. The woman was truly a sight, even disheveled as her appearance was.

At least his eyes could be entertained during this shitty job.

Stephanie finally took in a deep breath, before shifting in her bed. She slowly opened her eyes and looked around, not recognizing where she was.

Suddenly, everything came back to her with lightning speed. She sat up immediately and her eyes settled on the man who was watching her with disinterest. Stephanie squeaked and backed up until her back hit the wall over the bed.

"If you hurt me, you'll regret it," she warned. Chris raised an eyebrow in surprise; he had assumed she would demand to know where she was, or would plead for her life, or burst into tears and beg him for mercy. Instead, she comes out with a threat. That was definitely a new one.

"That a fact," he responded in an even voice as he leaned back in his chair. Nonchalantly, he raised his feet so they were on the table in front of him, crossing them at the ankles. He folded his hands behind his head. "And what, pray tell, do you think you can do to _me_, little girl?"

Stephanie ran her tongue over her teeth as she glared at the man who stood between her and her freedom. It was dark in the room, but there was enough light coming in through the curtains that she could finally see him. Her killer in the flesh. He had blond, disheveled hair that fell into his eyes. Black jeans, black boots, black jacket, black gun. Death and evil personified.

His eyes, though, were the most frightening part of him. They were a crystal, merciless blue that held her gaze completely. They were coldly assessing her, and in her inherent stubbornness, she refused to look away.

"You don't know who you're messing with," she sneered at him.

"Neither do you, _princess_," he sneered back. He suddenly dropped his feet from the table and stood up, and Stephanie's bravado practically flew out the window. She yelped a little and tried backing up more, wishing she could melt in the wall so she could be free of him, all the while cursing herself. Clearly, she had pushed him too far and now he was going to end her life for good.

Instead, she was surprised when he didn't pay her any attention as he walked to a dark corner of the room. He squatted down and Stephanie took the opportunity to look at the window that was shrouded by the curtains. She bit her bottom lip, wondering if she could try escaping again. He was too fast and too strong though… he had already proven that once. Maybe if she waited until he used the bathroom or fell asleep? He was human. Eventually, he would have to give in to a human need…

Her scheming was interrupted when he threw something at her. Stephanie screamed instinctively, the object hitting her and startling her.

"Will you _shut the fuck up, _woman?" Chris growled as he stood up. "If it's that much of a problem, I can easily take it back."

Stephanie blinked at his words, looking at him in confusion. Finally, she looked down to see what he had thrown to her.

A box of Pop-Tarts.

She looked up at him in disgust, her bluish-gray eyes burning with brilliant hatred for him.

"You probably poisoned this," she told him with venom in her voice. "I am not an idiot. I'm not eating a damn thing you offer me, you bastard."

Chris just shrugged. "Starve then," he said, his voice matter-of-fact. He crossed his arms and walked to the door, looking into the peep-hole as Stephanie stared a hole through him. She looked down at the box, and as if on cue, her stomach rumbled with hunger. She hadn't eaten in who knew how long now. She had no idea how long she had been there, trapped with this heartless monster. Time eluded her.

Stephanie slowly took the box in her hands, examining it, only to find that it hadn't been opened yet. That eased her fears a little bit, but not that much.

"They'll come looking for me, you know," she said quietly, slowly opening up the box. Chris didn't respond, just continued staring out of the peep-hole. Feeling more courageous at his silence, she continued, "They'll figure it all out. They're probably looking right this very moment."

"They can try," Chris replied, his voice cold. He shot a look over to her just as she was pulling out the first wrapped package. "I'm stepping outside for now. I highly suggest you don't do anything that will piss me off. I'm not in a good mood, princess."

Stephanie's heart began to race as she watched him undo the locks on the door. He was leaving her there, _alone_? She tried to keep her excitement at bay. Clearly, the man was all brawn with no brains. She wouldn't even need a whole minute to figure a way out, and by the time he came back in the room, he would be swarmed with police officers.

Chris opened the door and gave her a warning glance, before slipping outside. He closed the door behind him and walked down the hallway of the dingy and seedy hotel they were staying at. The hallway was dim, with lights flickering. He ignored that and put his hands in his pockets, before walking up to the man leaning against the far wall by the staircase. Chris stopped about a foot in front of him, watching as the man raised his head to make eye contact with him.

They stared at each other in silence, before Chris gave a frustrated growl. "What do you want, Randy?" he demanded.

"Paul just sent me to check in, that's all," Randy said with a shrug.

"I don't need to be watched like a fucking kid," Chris sneered angrily.

"How is she?" Randy asked, undeterred by Chris' hostile tone.

"Alive."

Randy smirked with a dark look in his eyes. "She's pretty fucking hot, huh? Did you screw her, Chris?"

Something animalistic tightened in Chris' stomach at the question. His face darkened with hatred. "What's it to you, Randy?" he finally asked, his blue eyes threatening.

Randy's smirk just grew. "Well, I just figured if you weren't messing with her, that maybe she could use someone to keep her warm in that room. There is no heat in there, you know. She might get col--"

That's as far as he got before Chris ruthlessly drove his forearm into his throat and shoved the taller man roughly back against the wall.

"Look here, kid," Chris snarled angrily, "This isn't your job so I suggest you stay the fuck out of my business. You get near that girl and hurt her and it's not your head that Paul will want. And I swear to you, Randy, if you fuck up this job for me, I will bring you down with me."

Randy shoved Chris away from him and sneered, "Better watch yourself, Chris. Paul isn't very happy with you these days."

"Thanks for the news," Chris shot back sarcastically. "Now get the fuck out of my sight, kid."

Randy snickered and raised his hands, as if pleading innocence. "Whatever you say, man."

Chris stared at him, his blue eyes never wavering as Randy trotted down the stairs with a cocky bounce in his steps. Chris clenched his fists tightly at his sides, not liking the undertones and unspoken words when Randy had said Paul wasn't very happy with him. It was dangerously close to a threat.

He finally exhaled in a frustrated hiss, before turning and heading back down the hallway. He didn't go back to the room though. Instead, he walked all the way to the end of the hallway, to the window that led outside to the fire exit.

No sooner had Chris closed the door behind him, than Stephanie had sprung into action. Being the genius lawyer that she was, she immediately launched herself to the door and locked it after him, ensuring that he couldn't come back and hurt her again. The next step was to take his equalizer away from him. She spun around and walked to the table where he had left his loaded gun.

Very slowly, Stephanie had picked it up, shocked by the weight of it. She had never once held a firearm in her hand and the weight of its deadliness and power made her hand tremble.

Escape was the next step. Not wanting to go out the exit for fear of possibly running into the monster himself, she turned her attention to the window. She pulled back the curtains, making the metal screech. She raised one hand to block out the light, squinting a little as her eyes slowly got adjusted. Raising one hand to the top of the window, she felt around and sure enough, there were locks there.

"Damn it!" she hissed. She took a glance over her shoulder as if expecting her captor to be standing there, watching her with those piercing blue eyes as she deliberately defied him. He wasn't there though; the locks were still firmly in place on the door.

Every second was precious and she couldn't let more slip away from her. With a steely determination, she put the gun down on the floor and then turned back to the window to begin undoing the locks. The more she worked, the longer it seemed to take. Stephanie blinked as sweat ran into her eyes, lifting up an arm and wiping her brow with her forearm. She didn't care that she was ruining her expensive suit jacket. She was way beyond such petty things right now. Having your life hanging in the balance would do that to you.

Finally, she unfastened the last lock. Adrenaline running through her from the possibility of escape, she put her hands on the bottom of the window to lift it up and taste the sweet air of freedom, when he suddenly appeared on the fire escape landing.

Stephanie shrieked in shock and stumbled backwards, falling into a heap of limbs. Chris stared at her for a moment outside of the window, before lowering his hand and sliding the window open. Stephanie realized, too late, that she had left the gun conveniently on the floor by the window. By the time she scrambled back up to her feet, Chris had already climbed back into the room and closed the window behind him. Stephanie backed up until she was as far away from him as possible, her back against the door now.

Chris turned and drew the curtains closed, before finally turning his attention to her completely. Stephanie stared into his blue eyes, her gaze pleading with words that she couldn't form. He frowned when he saw it, before looking down at the gun on the floor. Stephanie followed his line of sight and she was so afraid, she wanted to burst into tears. She bravely choked them back, but her eyes were beginning to water.

Chris crossed his arms over his chest, still looking down at the gun, a thoughtful expression on his face.

"And just _what _were you planning to do, princess? This isn't exactly your kind of neighborhood. You wouldn't last two blocks," he sneered, his eyes shooting up to stare into hers.

"Let me go and let's find out, asshole," she shot back at him, her tone not betraying how terrified she was of him.

"Sorry, princess. But you're stuck with me until the end," he told her in a cold voice. His words hit her like a sledgehammer. If she wasn't sitting on the floor against the door already, the weight of what he was saying would have surely brought her to her knees.

When he bent down to pick up the gun, she finally broke.

Chris closed his eyes and sighed when he heard her begin to sob. This is why he hated these jobs. He straightened and looked her over. She had raised her knees and was sobbing into them, her façade crumbling to pieces as she wept inconsolably.

"Will you stop that? You're going to give me a fucking headache," he sneered as he took his spot at the table again. He reached over for a fresh cigarette as she continued to cry. Chris shook his head and lighted his cigarette, his hands starting to shake.

He snapped the lighter off, before exhaling a cloud of smoke. He watched her cry for a while, not seeing any of her face. He could only see the top of her head and her soft, brown curls falling on either side of her knees.

Finally, he lost his patience and growled, "What are you crying about, girl? You have a bed and you have food. That's more than I usually give."

"Y-you, you're, g-going…"

"To kill you?" he finished, raising an eyebrow. She finally raised her head and looked at him, dread on her reddened face as she tried stifling her sobs.

"Please, don't," Stephanie pleaded, tears glistening in her eyes. She drew her hand closer to her and he caught sight of a piece of jewelry in the dim light of the room. He raised his cigarette to take another hit, eyeing the engagement ring before raising his eyes to meet hers.

Chris rolled his eyes and exhaled. "I'm not going to do it _tonight_, now will you finally shut up?"

To his surprise, his words seemed to sober her up. He had thought that his admission of what his intention was would make her crying even worse. But all she seemed to hear or care about was that it wasn't going to be soon. He peered at her curiously as he raised his cigarette again, watching as she wiped her tears away and regained her composure. She was an interesting one, this lawyer. Not nearly as predictable as others he had been assigned to in the past. Maybe this wouldn't be the bore he had anticipated.

She sat in silence, glaring at him. Stephanie might have been described as vindictive and ruthless in court, but that was just her job. She never meant to hurt anyone; hell, she had gone into her profession only wanting to help people and make other lives better. Now here she was, trapped with a man who was the very embodiment of everything she stood against. He was her moral antithesis, and while she had never once truly felt hatred for another person, she felt it in spades for him.

"Just because you aren't going to kill me tonight, doesn't mean that you're not planning to do other things," she said, watching her tone, even though her eyes were dark with hatred. She protectively pulled her arms tighter around herself.

Chris snorted and looked at her with disgust. "Princess, I wouldn't get near you if you were the last fucking woman on the planet. Who knows what kind of diseases you might have."

Stephanie's face blushed furiously at what he was insinuating. "_For your information, _I am engaged to marry an upstanding man and he is the _only _one who gets a piece of this."

He snickered disbelievingly before raising his cigarette again as she continued killing him with the hatred in her gaze.

"Will you stop that? You might not give a shit about your life, but I don't want to get lung cancer," she snapped angrily.

As if to taunt her, Chris exhaled slowly, blowing the smoke in her direction. She bristled with barely contained fury and he smirked when he saw it. She was definitely an interesting one, all right.

"You won't live long enough to get lung cancer," he replied coolly, bringing the cigarette back to his lips.

Stephanie ignored the chill going down her back, drawing her knees closer to her again as she watched him. She blinked back her tears and the weight of the situation threatened to cave her sanity in. The situation was madness personified and she felt like if she breathed the wrong way, he would hurt her… or worse. They hadn't sat in silence for more than five minutes and already she felt like she was going to lose her mind completely.

"Will you at least promise that you won't hurt me until you have to?" She needed some assurance, any assurance of this, if she had any hope of keeping a clear mind to formulate an escape plan.

Chris looked over at her, her voice startling him out of his brooding thoughts, her words sending a shiver down through his skin to his bones. When the shock passed through him, he frowned at her in disapproval.

"I don't make promises."

"Please?"

Chris sighed and leaned back, kicking his feet up on the table. He looked over at her, his blue eyes sharp and analytical as he studied her form. He could see a light shining in her eyes that had nothing to do with the light of the room or with the tears threatening to spill over. He knew from experience that the light would fade in time the longer this game was played. Deep down, and he would be damned to ever admit this out loud, but deep down, that was probably the part he hated the most of this stupid game. When a person lost that inner light, it resonated inside of him and haunted his dreams.

He looked away, preferring to stare at the wall near the bed, ignoring her imploring eyes. He raised his cigarette to his lips and took another long and slow hit.

He exhaled and glanced over at her, before giving a slow, conceding nod. Stephanie felt like a weight was lifted off of her and against her will, she gave him a grateful smile. Chris just sneered at her and looked away again.

The sooner Paul gave the order, the better indeed.


End file.
